


Running to Ground

by TriDom



Series: Anchors [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fluff, M/M, Mates, Slight Underage - Peter is 17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 06:47:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3841078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriDom/pseuds/TriDom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Chris left the Marines, his father sent him to Lost City, CA to run surveillance on the Hale Pack. He didn't count on one of their number fixating on him or on crashing head first and fast for the seventeen year old when he used words like "mate". </p><p>Chris is 21. Peter is 17.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running to Ground

**Author's Note:**

> When Chris goes to help his dad right after this scene, Gerard tells him he knows about him and Peter. I'll let you imagine all the wonderful things that means for Chris until more of their back story is told in Anchors. At this point, they've been together for four to six months.

Chris picked up his 1911from the bubbled surface of his coffee table and ejected the magazine, picked up the box of ammunition and began to load each one with the quiet snick of metal on metal filling the small living room of his rent house.

Farther in, the heater kicked on. It tinging through the metal vents that would become scalding, but somehow fail to heat even one room. He slid the magazine into his 1911 and racked the slide before pulling back the hammer. The swollen wood creaked. He paused then heard it again before Peter’s bare feet thumped on the linoleum of the kitchen from his bedroom and into the living room.

“Morning,” he said tiredly.

“Why are you leaving so early?” Peter asked, coming to him and kissing the side of his neck.

“Dad needs me in Nevada,” Chris said, flicking on the safety before putting his arms around Peter’s bed-warmed torso.

“Fuck your dad,” Peter mumbled against his neck, moving down to his collarbone.

Chris grunted quietly and closed his eyes as Peter’s soft lips dragged over his skin.

“When will you be home?”

“Home, huh?”

“You heard me,” Peter said, kissing back up beneath his jaw.

Chris turned his face to catch Peter’s lips.

“I don’t have time for this,” Chris said, tilting his forehead to Peter’s.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Peter said, reaching around him, his bare chest pressing fully to Chris’s front. Something thunked on the low table then Chris’s utility belt wrapped around his back. “I’m just helping you get ready.”

“Mhm,” Chris said, but he moved his arms to let Peter buckle the belt around his stomach.

Then Peter turned him by his hips and sank to his knees. Chris’s insides automatically tightened as Peter slid his hands down his thighs and looked up at him. He had seen weres tear into people like wolves on lambs, has seen their contorted face covered in blood, but the way Peter smiled with the tips of his elongated canines peaking from under his pink lips, turned his spine to putty.

Peter smiled wider, his eyes flashing from his human blue to deep gold.

“Don’t get excited. I’m just dressing you.”

“Then do it,” Chris said.

He dropped his hand to the side of Peter’s face, sliding his fingers back through his short dark hair. For all of his lip, Chris felt him shiver.

Peter picked up his thigh sheath and slid his hands down his left leg, smoothing down his jeans. He fumbled slightly with the buckles, but when Chris reached to help, Peter pushed his hand away. The clips connected with dull snaps then Peter picked up Chris’s knife and slid it into the hard plastic on the outside of his thigh until it clicked. Then Peter ran his hands up and down his right thigh, brushing close to the junction of his legs. When his hand brushed Chris’s dick down the leg of his jeans, he squeezed, then picked up the holster for Chris’s right thigh.

“How high?” Peter asked, so close Chris could feel his breath through the denim. “Here?” he asked, touching mid-way between his knee and hip.

“Higher.”

“Here?” Peter asked, kissing barely higher.

Chris looked down, trying to keep from smiling. “You know where I put it.”

“No idea,” Peter said against his jeans, then kissing up barely higher. “There?”

Chris tightened his hand in Peter’s hair. “Up.”

Peter flicked his eyes up again then closed them before dragging his nose up then down, his chest expanding deeply. His lips pulled back slightly, showing his longer teeth before he mouthed against Chris’s jeans.  

Chris watched the tips of Peter’s fingertips, holding his right hip. He watched the black peak from beneath his normal nails, watched them start to knead into his clothes unconsciously. He inhaled deeply to keep his heart from beating faster. Peter mouthed again higher, his other hand curling into Chris’s thigh. He nosed farther up and when his hand brushed Chris’s fattening dick again, his mouth was on it next, lipping it with his eyes closed.

Chris pulled his hair by the roots.

“No, Buck. Finish what you were doing.”

A low noise came from Peter’s chest, vibrating to Chris through his dick.

He put his other hand in the top of Peter’s hair, tilting his head back so he could look in his eyes that had blown completely to gold.

“Pull back a little bit.”

Chris held Peter’s eyes for a solid half minute before Peter took a deep breath and blinked. Then he was looking into blue again, but his mouth was still fuller than normal.

“You’re no fun,” Peter said, picking up his holster that had ended up on the floor.

“You’re just mad you lost at your own game.”

“You’re the one he isn’t getting your dick sucked.”

“I never said that.”

Peter kept his eyes on what he was doing, but he licked his lower lip as he fastened the buckles then tightened it until Chris grunted. Then his fingers were at Chris’s zipper, unbuttoning and pushing down his jeans until his half-hard cock hung from his underwear.

He loved how mouthy Peter was, but he loved him like this too. He loved how impatient he got and how much Peter hated that he got impatient. He would grow out of it. Chris could already see it. He’d get control of himself and he’d end up the brick wall Talia could be, but right now, he was seventeen and he still got high on how much he loved Chris.

Chris knew there wasn’t ever going to be a time when that didn’t set him on fire.

Chris’s shoulders thumped back when Peter sucked him into his mouth, not bothering with teasing.

He put his hand on the back of Peter’s head and listened to the faint click and give of Peter’s throat as he took him down to the base slowly, again and again. Faintly he smelled coffee and listened to the pop and gurgle of the maker in the kitchen.

“That’s it, baby,” he said.

Peter hummed again. An inhuman noise. It should make him want to pull his dick from between his jaws, but instead he pushed forward shallowly, feeling Peter’s nails press lightly into his hips.

It was sloppy, but that just added to it. The way Peter dragged his tongue up his sac and ended at the tip of his dick before sucking him down again, hardly any technique, but it made his balls draw up. The bump of his sharp teeth against his soft skin is what set him off, like it had since the first time he felt it. When he was breathing hard and going soft, Peter pulled off with a soft pop and crowded against him where he leaned against the wall.

When Chris reached for Peter’s underwear, Peter pushed his hand away before dropped his forehead to the curve of his neck.

“I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll be home in a few days.”

Chris put his arms around Peter and hugged him, kissing his cheek then his lips.

“Love you.”

“I love you too,” Peter said.

Chris watched his lip become less swollen and when he opened his eyes and smiled softly, his fangs were completely gone. Chris brushed his thumb under one of his blue eyes. Finally, Peter pulled away and picked up Chris’s pistol before sliding it into the holster and buckling the clasp.

“Come drink your coffee,” Peter said, walked away.

Chris buttoned his jeans as Peter walked into the kitchen, his dark underwear hugging the lines of his ass. He pulled his belt closed and rolled his lips between his teeth, tasting himself and the tingle of toothpaste from Peter’s mouth before he followed after him.

**Author's Note:**

> When I finish Anchors I may look into lengthening this and having a 15-20k fic of Chris and Peter meeting and the things that followed. Their young years were fun to dip into.


End file.
